


and the fires are smouldering everywhere

by seperent



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Azula (Avatar) Thinks She Is a People Person, Canonical Child Abuse, Gen, Pre-Canon, Zuko (Avatar) Has Issues, Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, circus freak!zuko, zuko and ty lee are friends because i said so, zuko gets adopted by circus, zuko loves animals and animals love him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28313091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seperent/pseuds/seperent
Summary: When Zuko learns that his Father agreed about having him killed, he doesn’t take it silently and obediently — he runs away with the circus.
Relationships: Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Ty Lee & Zuko (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar) & Original Character(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 66





	1. dawn

_and there is pain in the reason_

_everything is on its places_

  
  


  
Day was just starting yet, the sun hung low and Oma was already out of her breath, running around with hands full of packets. That’s how the last day always is — just too much stuff to buy, find and get ready. More comfortable saddles for komodo-rhinos, last supplies and the special food for baby moose-lions. 

She has no right to whine about it, because they are able to afford it now, and that’s the miracle. Also, Oma is happy to wander around the Caldera city for a little longer, because she is still quite hesitant to leave the kind and warm Fire Nation sun. So for now, she is going to finish everything up and bask in the rays a little more. 

  
  


She likes shopping alone — it can be meditative, choosing the right things out of the piles of others, especially when no one’s here to hasten her with choice. Also it’s good to sometimes get out of circus — Oma loves it, but it can be too much, so it’s refreshing to wander alone — not the part of something, not the the animal trainer — just her, Oma, or maybe even some random woman, a little too skinny but other ways just ordinary. 

She keeps humming some melody under her nose, thinking about the little dance she wants to try with the moose lions — they adore the music and get literally crazy when they hear it in any variation. It’s nice to think about the circus — known, domestic routine: how she’s going to go back with all the stuff she bought — and everyone is going to be already packing the things up, and then, in the evening they will be back on the road, somewhere forward, unknown, and it is going to feel just as good and familiar. 

Oma spends good ten minutes buying fresh apples for the young dancer twins— the ones they seem to like — a little sour and tough. That’s enough of Fire Nation hospitality for her, she thinks. Their stay there was unexpectedly productive, but it’s getting closer to summer, and the last experience she wants to have — the heat, clouding over the brain and making it’s impossible to train. And the komodo rhinos suffer too, in their shells. Oma understands them — she was raised in the pleasant cool of Earth Kingdom forests, full of shadows and unexpected waters. 

  
  


The ten years of her seventeen she spent with the circus — travelling all around the world. Her previous life is all blurry in the memories — but there are days in the forests with her mother, learning about herbs, healing and poisoning, little girl in the mirror — thin, long-legged and always sun-kissed. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Oma picks up her packets more comfortably and checks the sun. Looks like it’s time to go, even if she’s still wistful about it, but the higher the sun rises, the harder it gets to bear it. Maybe she can walk through the parks for the last time, before they live. Who knows when she gets to see Caldera city next time. 

It’s enough that this season was quite nervous. Somewhere in the middle of their stay, the new Fire Lord stepped up on the throne, and only was already not an ordinary occasion, because the Fire Lord hadn’t changed for ages. But it also was reinforced by the sudden death of the last one and the mysterious disappearance of the Fire Lady — Oma doesn’t like thinking about that too long. 

She was raised far away from titles and hierarchy and then years in the circus haven’t changed it — it’s hard for Oma to grasp the concept of servile worship for the Royal family. Everyone there puts them on the same pedestal with their gods, but how can they do that, when it’s one the messiest families she’s ever seen?

  
  


She’s still a little wary of them, because it’s better to stay careful around people with powers. 

  
  


Oma has seen Lady Ursa only once in her life. 

She was getting ready for the performance when Rin bursted in and started yelling about all the Royal line starting from Sozin who had risen from the dead just to attend the festivity. 

Her hands trembled when she applied the last bits of her makeup, but when she was on the stage, Oma kept herself from finding anyone in the audience. It was hard not to, but it would be even harder to perform if anyone from the Royal family indeed came. 

Her babes hadn’t let her down, stretching their paws and doing just as she told them. Oma finally lifted her eyes up, she had seen that the main box was indeed full 

  
  


Lady Ursa was graceful, beautiful and incredibly sad, leaning on the armrest of her chair. There were two children, clinging to her on both sides — Oma couldn't really see who was who because of how far away that was, but she supposes, they were the Prince and Princess. 

Fire Lady left just before the end of the show, picking up both of her children and dissolving in the dark of the city. Oma caught her leaving in a hurry, pushing her children in the palanquine, looking around to see if nobody's watching. 

  
  


That’s enough of encounters with royalty for one person, Oma’s sure. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


She turns into an alley, then into a smaller one, and then into even smaller. If you want to reach your destination in crowded Caldera _ever_ , that’s the only way. While staying there with the circus and being the one always sent to do the shopping, Oma already has learnt the best ways. Well, maybe she’s a bit reluctant to leave the city she started liking. 

She tries to shrug the thought of — being back on the road is going to feel just as good as it felt the first time, and all the times after, like going home. 

  
  
  


She carefully walks through the backstreet. It’s hard for her to see anything because of her packets, but she’s quite sure about being able to protect herself. Oma has a knife in her pocket, but she’s not used to going out without her polar dogs — the cubs, mixed with some species, are the ones who are able to stand the heat. This season they suddenly had grown up, but still never changed the habit of following Oma everywhere. 

  
  
  
  


She feels a sudden hit at her stomach, hard, knocking her out of breath and the packets out of her hands. Oma sees stars for a moment and tries to keep herself from the falling. 

The thing that hit her is a boy's head — hard thing. Little bastard picks up one of her packets with apples and thinks he can leave like that. 

Oma is furious at herself for losing control like that and takes a knife out of her pockets, but that won’t be necessary — she can handle it bloodless. 

She catches a little fucker by a collar. 

— Where the fuck do you think you going?

His legs don’t reach the ground when she’s holding him like that, unexpectedly light. Oma looks the boy in the face — how old actually he is? When she looks him in the eyes, she cannot give him more than eleven. The boy doesn’t move, frozen, his gold eyes now even bigger — scared? Well, as he should be. What he was even thinking about, stealing there? It’s not one of the main streets, but not the most distant one, not far from the market and the centre. He’s either desperate or dumb. 

He’s much skinnier than boys at the circus, with unevenly chopped dark hair. He’s clearly Fire Nation, the epitome of how they look. He keeps silent, clearly trying to duck his head in his shoulders, looking on the verge of crying. Uh, when she fell so low that she started fighting children? 

Oma shrugs that thought off — he’s not just a child, he tried to steal the food she bought for the children from the circus, on the little money they have. But Oma hates nothing more than scared and crying children, so she puts him down and the boy immediately sags, like he’s relieved. She sits him down on the edge. 

— Don’t move, or I’ll kill you. 

He jumps up, startled and his eyes grow even more, snapping wide open, like they are going to actually jump out from the sockets. Oma rolls her eyes. She was joking. Or not. 

She starts collecting scattered apples. Little fucker looks at her with his huge hungry eyes, and she suppresses the groan. Oma picks up one, cleans it with her sleeve and shoves it at him. 

— Eat. 

He startles when she makes a sudden movement, but immediately sticks his teeth in it. Oma finishes gathering her packets and looks at the boy. 

He is so different from the boys she’s used to seeing in the circus — well-fed and trained and taken care of, because that’s how circus works. Children there are usually parentless one way, or another, so everyone parents them a little. 

This boy is thin, has dark eyebags and keeps looking around while eating. 

He finishes. 

— Answer my questions, and I’m going to get you another one. 

He looks at her angrily, from under his brows. 

— What’s your name?

The boy is hesitant to answer the question, and that’s valid — she can be anyone from the Water tribe spy (she doesn’t look Water tribe at all), to kidnapper, doing child-trafficking. 

— Zuko. 

  
  


Not like it told her anything, but Oma still takes another apple out and gives him. At least now she knows how to call him. 

Zuko starts savoring it. She sighs. When Oma started feeding thieves?

  
  


— Whose are you?

Zuko looks at her, surprised, apple forgotten for a moment. 

— What do you mean? I’m nobody’s. 

  
  


— All the children are someone’s. Or they are quite miserable. 

He finishes this apple too, and then eyes the bag hungrily. 

— I’m fine alone. 

It looks like he’s been wandering alone for quite a long time. Oma wonders when was the last time he ate. It’s not her place to care, but this boy looks just like one of the moose-lions cubs she found on the rad once — dirty, angry and trying to bite her fingers off. But then, washed, fed and brushed he made a decent impression. 

Oma’s little zoo has been growing with each season and she’s already needed someone to help her out there. Of course acrobatic kids were always glad to help, especially when that was the same with their studies, but that was the reason she couldn’t let them do it. Or their master would be quite mad with her. 

Does she really consider taking this kid in the circus? How is everyone going to react?

— Sorry for trying to steal from you. 

Well, at least the kid has decent manners. 

Zuko gets up to leave, but she stops him. 

— Do you want a job and leave the Caldera city?

He peers at her again, like a little owl, tilting his head a little and screwing his eyes. 

— What do you mean? 

Oma understands how her proposition might have looked, so she corrects herself hastily. 

— I work at the circus, with animals and I need an assistant. 

His eyes light up immediately and he perks up, jumpy. 

— Which animals? Back home we had turtleducks pond with babies, and my mother told me which is their mom, and…, — he stops himself, looking guilty after rambling, and Oma disgustingly endeared. 

— A lot of different animals. Komodo rhinos, and polar-dogs, and moose-lions, and a lot of others. Don’t think we’re going to pay you, but you will be fed and have a place to sleep. We’re going to be back on the road today and eating something hot before it wouldn’t harm you. 

Zuko isn’t really hesitant even for a moment. Oma supposes the mentions of animals is what spurred his decision. That, and maybe that he has nowhere to go. 

— Yes, I would like that very much. 

He jumps up, and starts picking up her bags hastily, looking up even guiltier than before. 

Oma rolls her eyes. Does he think she’s going to change her mind that fast? Zuko doesn’t hand her the packets, choosing to carry them himself. Well, having an assistant already has its perks. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


They walk, and walk and walk until they reach the edge of the city, where their circus camped. The longer they walk, the more nervous Zuko gets. He’s riled up to the edge all the time, fiddling with his sleeves and fidgeting with her bags, and looking at Oma with strange caution in his eyes. Is he always like that, or just scared of something? What she got herself into, deciding to hire him?

Uh. 

— What do you think I’m trying to do? Lead you to the forest and kill where no one can see? 

He’s alarmed at once, jumps away from her and looks like he’s in the moment from running away. Oma rolls her eyes. 

— I’m joking, seriously, calm down. There is no need to tremble. 

Something in her words riles the kid up and he snaps at her:

— I’m not scared of anything! I’m just being cautious!

— Yes, and that's the right quality, but you need to think — was there really any need for me to feed you if I was going to kill you?

Zuko considers her point and maybe finds it valid. Anyway, he’s not trembling anymore, but still tense and aware of her movements. 

  
  


Oma wonders if she got herself an hysteric. 

  
  
  
  


They reach the camp finally, and the kid startles, dumbstruck. Oma gets why. 

It’s always a grand picture — pavilions standing in the circle on the clearing, surrounded by trees and hidden from the outside eyes. Their performing pavilion is not far away from here, but the camp itself is a secret from strangers. Oma prefers it that way, like everyone here. 

Wild animals are no threat to the camp, because polarbear-dogs announce the arrival of strangers the moment it happens. 

Now they are silent, because they are busy leaking Oma’s hands and sticking their noses in her bags. She remembers having salmon in one of them and supposes that’s the reason for their interest. She answers their rough caresses, petting the scruffs. 

Zuko looks at it, wordless, his mouth slightly open. Oma sees his hands tremble a little, in a fit to reach the dogs and she snorts. 

— You can pet them, now when I’m here and they want to deserve a treat, they are innocuous. 

He stares at her, disbelieving. 

— Can I?

She rolls her eyes. 

— Do it, until I’ve changed my mind. 

Zuko isn't to be asked twice. 

He pushes himself in the pack, and Oma carefully watches the behaviour of the dogs, but it’s okay — they just sniff his hands, looking for a treat and poking their noses in his palms. They are used to being around children and act like big plushies for the youngest members of the circus. 

Zuko lifts his eyes to her and is? he? crying? the fuck. Was he bitten? No? What is she supposed to do?

— Do you want to see moose-lions?

Kid jumps up, and then gets flustered because of his too vivid wish. He sneakily wipes his nose with his sleeve and Oma fights the urge to roll her eyes. Spirits, why is she so affected by it? Did she hire the assistant or adopt a child? Uh. 

  
  


Her tent - big, round, more like a pavilion is the most unready for the road. That’s because when she was leaving this morning to shop, she was still at the stage of denial, but now with all the kid bustling, Oma already forgot that she was reluctant to leave. That’s good. 

She puts the curtain, covering the entrance, away and lets the kid in. 

— I would say make yourself at home, but we’re leaving today anyways and you don’t have any stuff, so you can just rest a little, while I find you something hot to eat and talk with my boss about you. 

Oma sees that he looks around, looking lost and reluctant to make any move, so she throws a cushion from the look at him. 

— Sit. 

He nestles carefully, like the floor can blow up from under him at any moment. 

  
  
  


Her tent is not much bigger than the others, but there is one main thing — she lives there alone, just her and her animals, who can’t live in their corrals because they are ill, or too small or anything. 

People in the circus like living in groups — friends, or lovers, or even families sometimes sharing their temporary homes, but somehow, Oma ended up alone. Maybe, that’s because no one likes polarbear-dog’ cubs snoring on your head when you’re trying to sleep. 

Oma finds some leftovers of the broth and noodles she had for breakfast and starts fire to warm it up a little. She doesn’t miss how the kid reacts to it — he tenses even more (is that possible?)

  
  
  
  
  


— You got us the apples?

A lot of things happen at once — Yun and Rin tumble in, wearing matching black training robes and pants: they like to match all the time, but it just makes telling them apart even easier for everyone who knows them, and it happens to be behind Zuko’s back. He suddenly turns, fast and furious and then there is fire. 

Girls jump away in the backflip, and Oma is doesn’t worry about them — if they can do tricks, they are okay. Zuko, on the other hand, is not. He’s trembling like mad, and curled up even deeper into himself. 

— Oma stole a firebender!

Oh spirits.

— Yun, I would like you to be quiet about that. This is my new assistant, who happened to be firebender. Now take your apples and go help everyone with packing. 

Twins are disappointed with her answer, she sees that, but she so-called new assistant is on the verge of mental breakdown so she watches them leave. 

— I’m.. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it.. I couldn’t control it, I’m so so sorry, I.. When do I need to leave?

Oma looks at him, bewildered. 

— What do you mean, leave? I’ve just hired you. 

Kid lifts his eyes, clearly surprised. 

— But.. But I haven’t told you about my firebending, and I nearly hurt these girls, and…

— First of all, it was quite obvious you can be a fire bender: we’re in the Fire Nation. Second, I’d like to see you try hurting the twins — they will bite your head off. Third, and the last — you haven’t done any of your work yet and I haven’t given you permission to leave. So now, — she picks up the plate, — eat. I’m sure you can handle heating it up yourself. And I have business to do. 

  
  


Oma is going to have a talk explaining what has given her this idea of hiring a firebender. 

  
  
  
  
  


She hopes that he doesn’t blow up her tent while she’s making sure he can stay. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. uprise

Fact one — Zuko has been by himself for he can't remember how long. At first, he counts the sunrises and the nights he spends sleeping on the stones and in the corners of dead ends, startling because of his own breaths and being scared by his own hands, and the hours between them — hours he spends endlessly wandering around, trying and failing helplessly in multitasking — to find something to eat, not to be killed and not to be caught by Father’s guards. He lost count at what — twenty-seventh day? Thirty-second? He’s too busy trying to survive. 

  
  


Fact two — Zuko lives in constant dread of being followed, and this one is not unreasonable at all. He would think that if he doesn’t have anything to steal, no one would be interested in attacking, but he knows better than that. Recently, Zuko has been assaulted eight times for stealing, ten times to steal from him — what, his last robe?, four times by drunk men for walking with a too smug face on, been proposed to join the massage parlour as a client three times and as a worker six times. But that’s not what he’s afraid of the most — he’s afraid of waking up one day with guards in the royal uniform looming over him. Zuko doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to even try to protect himself, because his only way of protecting himself is running away because he can’t firebend for sake of not attracting attention, and that, believe him, he does very good — even too good for a prince. Is he still a prince? Can being the prince be taken from him? 

He’s sure he already took it from himself, being the coward, unable to handle the consequences and stuff. 

  
  
  


Fact three — he sleeps like shit, waking up every fifteen minutes and he doesn’t find it something bad, because when he sleeps, it’s all one big feverish nightmare — his last night in the palace which he remembers in bits and pieces — sometimes Zuko wonders which ones are real and where his mind is playing with him. Is his sister coming to gloat about Father wanting to kill him real? Is his sister coming to his room to warn about Father wanting to kill him real? Is mother hugging him one last time real? Zuko leaves so she won’t need to sacrifice herself to save him, but she still does, because he's a failure even in that, and Mother is announced to be gone, and Fire Lord to be dead. 

And for what? he’s not even _safe_.

  
  


Fact four, The main one — he's not wanted, no one is hunting for him — no matter how many days go by. No one announces from the squares that the Prince of the Fire Nation is lost, and Zuko supposes that no one has found him yet, because _no one is looking for him._

He’s scared out of his mind that it means that Father is playing a long lasting strategy, the one he never was able to grasp, unlike Azula — shortsighted. But he waits, and waits, and waits, and no one notices anything. No one is talking at the markets and streets about the missing prince, and Zuko thinks, with cold tremor inside him, that he could die, and they wouldn’t notice. 

And they wouldn’t be wrong, because is there anything Zuko has done for them but run away?

  
  


Fact five, the last one — he is so _hungry_ . He used to be sent to bed sometimes without the dinner when he messed up, and when he started to suddenly grow, he always wanted to eat, but this is _different_. It claws inside him, he’s so hungry it hurts. And it gets harder and harder to steal anything because more and more vendors start to recognise him. And the people who actually are buying something nearly always are armed. And he can’t make himself steal from the unarmed, because they are usually women with children, and Azula was right — he’s too weak and soft to even survive. 

  
  
  


That morning he mops around nearly hopelessly, because he knows if he doesn’t eat something, he’s going to faint, and then he dies, and that would mean mother sacrificed herself for nothing, and Zuko can’t do that to her, so he drags himself up and looks for something, maybe something that was thrown out so he can just pick it up. 

But he’s totally unlucky today — _his whole life_ —and doesn’t find anything, which means there’s only one way, so he hides in the corner of them backstreet, waiting for an opportunity. He thinks about mother — what would she say if she saw him right now? She would be sad. He closes his eyes and silently asks her for help no matter where she is. 

  
  
  
  
  


Then Zuko sees it — young woman takes turn to the street where he is hidden, her hands full of bags, and she seems to be the same age Lu Ten was when he left — memory burns him, but he pushes it away, — and she surely wouldn’t be left starving if he takes one packet from her? 

The sharp pain in his stomach reassures him, so he runs straight on the woman, trying to startle her or just distract and suddenly feels his head bang into something, but he doesn’t have time to find balance, so Zuko picks up the first packet he sees, and runs, runs, runs….

Then he can’t feel the earth under his feet anymore, and the world spins — has he fainted? Oh, he hasn’t. Someone lifted him up, and he’s close to death anyway, so he looks in the face of the woman, and she looks very mad, her dark eyes, unusual for the Fire Nation, are glaring holes in him, and he sees the knife in her pocket.

He must fight, he must do something, but he’s just so _tired…_

_Sorry, mother, for wasting your sacrifice._

Zuko closes his eyes, ready for death — at least from not Father’s hands. 

  
  


Then he’s seated somewhere, carefully, and he suddenly doesn’t want to die anymore, so he freezes and something is shoved in his hands. He’s so surprised by sudden change, that he doesn’t immediately understand what it is, but then.. 

_eat_

Zuko sticks his teeth in the apple, losing mind and not hearing whatever woman is saying, savouring the feeling in his mouth, but it ends too soon. 

— What’s your name?

Is he supposed to change his name? Does that matter anyway? Now she knows that no one in the Fire Nation really knows how their prince looks, and he’s not wanted, so he doesn’t care, still too hungry to think straight. 

  
  


— Zuko. 

She gives him another apple. 

— Whose are you?

He looks up, surprised. 

Zuko never was Father’s — he’s not good enough. Maybe he’s mother’s — but she’s dead, so he can’t be hers too. When he thinks about mother, his eyes burn again. 

— What do you mean? I’m nobody’s. 

She looks at him, displeased.

— All the children are someone’s. Or they are quite miserable. 

Zuko doesn’t feel like fainting anymore, but he still is hungry and he wonders where the kindness of this woman ends, eyeing her other packets. He suddenly feels so guilty — she didn’t do anything to him for trying to steal from her, fed him (!), and he still wants to rob her more, keep eating. 

— I’m fine alone. 

She looks at him, observant. 

— Sorry for trying to steal from you..

  
  


— Do you want a job and leave the Caldera city?

_spirits not the parlours again_

  
  


— What do you mean?

She blinks, confused and then adds:

— I work at the circus, with animals and I need an assistant. 

Zuko understands that he is most likely to be killed or sold to the same old massage parlour, but — maybe that’s mother sending him the sign? Maybe she’s not mad at him for wasting her sacrifice? 

Zuko knows that this is childish and stupid and he should have overgrown hope long ago, but it’s so _tempting_ to believe that mother is thinking about him no matter where she is. 

— Which animals? Back home we had turtleducks pond with babies, and my mother told me which is their mom, and…,

Did he just tell her that he used to live in the palace? Do common people know about turtleducks’ ponds?

— A lot of different animals. Komodorhinos, and polar beardogs, and moose-lions, and a lot of others. Don’t think we’re going to pay you, but you will be fed and have a place to sleep. We’re going to be back on the road today and eating something hot before it wouldn’t harm you. 

  
  


Is all the food in the packets supposed to be for the animals? If they feed animals so good, maybe there would be something left for Zuko?

  
  


— Yes, I would like that very much. 

He feels even worse now for stealing from her — and he has this horrible feeling that she’s going to take one look at her packets, remember how they met and hand him to guards. 

He rushes to pick them up. 

  
  
  
  


While they are walking, he gets more and more anxious. First of all, now when he got more time to think, he regrets his dumb depiction — what exactly stops this woman from killing him? Or worse?

Second, he doesn't know her name and it would be very disrespectful and weird now to ask, so he keeps silent, mulling over and over his worries inside his head. 

— What do you think I’m trying to do? Lead you to the forest and kill where no one can see? 

He identifies annoyed notes in her voice with practised ease, and hysterically starts looking for the way out of the situation. 

— I’m joking, seriously, calm down. There is no need to tremble. 

_Coward coward coward always overthinking_

— I’m not scared of anything! I’m just being cautious!

Zuko immediately regrets the disrespect in his voice and ducks. 

— Yes, and that's the right quality, but you need to think — was there really any need for me to feed you if I was going to kill you?

Well, overthinking and caution seem to annoy her, so the strategy should be different here. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He’s fucked up again. Couldn't he at least last until she gives him something to eat, is because who knows when he gets to eat next time, and he had the perfect opportunity to have something, and now he’s going to be send back, everyone knows he’s firebender, everyone knows he’s the _prince,_ and he nearly burned these girls, because he has no damn self control. 

Zuko can’t make out any of his thoughts anymore and the tent around him spins. He tries to focus on the figure of the strange woman that took him in— well, now he at least knows her name. What she’s going to do with him before she sends him to his Father? She had knives, but she also said that her animals need to eat, and even if Zuko doesn’t have any meat on his bones anymore, there’s still something in him to eat?

He looks at the exit out of the tent. There is no door, just the cloth covering it. Maybe he can run right now and go back to the streets? But he has nowhere to go, and Oma stands right before the exit, and, Spirits, if he could wait just for a little to mess everything up and eat. 

He remembers his mother helping him when his own mind got _too much_ and telling to count the things he can see and hear, but mother is not here, and he’s about to be fed to the mooselions. 

This woman seems to be kind, she hasn’t done anything when he tried to steal from her, and maybe she will just let him go and not send him to Father, if he asks her well? 

Who’s he kidding. Zuko can’t speak to people for the sake of spirits, let alone persuade them to do something for him — he can’t even keep eye contact. 

He decides to try and get up, rising from the floor he’s sitting on, but it’s the exact moment Oma turns to him with a bowl in her arms. What's in there and what she’s planning to do to him?

Zuko is not sure if she’s seen him getting up to run away, but if she has, she is a master in making a face like everything is okay and she’s not mad, but Zuko knows on his experience that quiet fury is the worst. 

— I’m.. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it.. I couldn’t control it, I’m so so sorry, I.. When do I need to leave?

Please, please, just let him leave.

Oma makes weird face and looks at him like Zuko said nonsense or dumb thing, and, well, he says dumb things all the time, but that means she’s definitely not going to let him go, and now she’s blocking the exit fully, so he curls in himself more, hoping she at least won’t throw that bowl at him.

— What do you mean, leave? I’ve just hired you. 

Well, this is definitely _weird_ , but he is also so relieved he might think this is a joke because in which universe he gets such gifts as someone deciding against killing him?

— But.. But I haven’t told you about my firebending, and I nearly hurt these girls, and…

_Uh, what do you want, Dum-Dum? For her to change her mind?_

He hears Azula’s voice as clear as she's near him, and flinches. 

— First of all, it was quite obvious you can be a fire bender: we’re in the Fire Nation. Second, I’d like to see you try hurting the twins — they will bite your head off. Third, and the last — you haven’t done any of your work yet and I haven’t given you permission to leave. So now, — she picks up the plate, — eat. I’m sure you can handle heating it up yourself. And I have work to do. 

He doesn’t hear much because _food_ , wonderful gorgeous _hot_ food.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Oma leaves, and Zuko is left with a bowl of strange, thick broth. He is supposed to be cautious because this is the first time he sees that woman, who he _definitely_ cannot trust and he just attacked two girls who live there and who seem to be close to the strange woman, because she buys them stuff, and she said she’s not mad at him for it, but Zuko is sure that’s not true and she’s going to be back in few minutes with other people who will kill him or sent him back to Father, because he’s so dumb and pathetic he can’t even control his own firebending, but the broth smells _amazing_ and he haven’t ate for how long? A few days? More?

There’s so much in his head that it spins a little and he’s in the middle of that turmoil, but he starts devouring the food, chewing slowly, because he already knows what happens if you eat too much after you haven’t ate for a long time, and even though he doesn’t know what he will have to do to earn the food and when Oma is going to feed him next time, he tries to eat carefully, not stuffing too much in himself. 

Azula would laugh at him, so pathetic, so unable to cope with demands of the body, so weak-willed that he knows he’s in danger but keeps eating. 

  
  


The cloth covering the entrance rumbles again, and Zuko jumps up, alarmed. That’s not Oma — two girls from earlier sneak in, carefully looking around and then whispering something to each other. 

Have they come to have their vengeance on him? Oma is not here to tell them off, and he’s not sure she would do it if she were, but he _is_ sure that if he firebends at them one more time, he’s going to be kicked out faster than he says _oh_.

Now he can see them clearly — they are identical twins, with long brown frizzled hair and dark skin. 

One of them smirks, looks at Zuko and throws her hair back. He’s absolutely terrified. 

He’s always careful around girls, especially when they gather in groups, because Azula and her friends are lethal. 

  
  


But they silently sit in front of him and Zuko fights the urge to jump back. The one who is a little taller bites into her apple violently and pierces Zuko with a stare. 

— So what are you going to do? Acrobatics? Martial arts? Acting in the plays?

_They do plays there?_

Girls are waiting for his answer, even if he’s not sure what they are asking about? But they seem to have no intention to do anything to him and are not offended even at slightest by his attack earlier, so he tries to make a guess. 

— Uh… I suppose I’m going to just help Oma with the animals?

Girls scoff, at the same time.

— Boring. If you want something more interesting, you’re always welcome on our acrobatic rehearsals — you’ll be very handy with your fires. It’s much more fun. 

They hold out their hands to him at the same time. 

— I’m Yun. 

— I’m Rin. 

— My name is Zuko.

He fumbles with both of their hands, not knowing which he is supposed to shake first, but they just smirk more, get up and leave him all confused. 

  
  


When they are already lifting the cloth, they stumble into Oma, who eyes them both with visual displeasure. 

— What have I told you both about wandering here without me? And if I hear again you messing with my assistant I’m going to be very mad. 

She looms over them, and Zuko knows that when adults are in this state, it’s best to not gather attention to yourself and be as invisible as possible, but girls just duck from her and leave, already discussing something between themselves very excitedly. 

  
  


Oma rolls her eyes, and gives Zuko some bundle. 

— I’ve had everything settled about you. It was kinda hard to persuade our master that, _yes i need that firebending assistant and no other._

Is she implying that his position there is very unstable and his life now fully depends on her will? He supposes yes. 

— Chill, that was a joke. No one cares who I hire. Now change into these clothes and then you’re going to help me get the animals ready for the road. 

Zuko's mind immediately concentrates on the animals and he can’t think about anything else no matter how hard he tries. He’s sure there won't be any turtleducks, but the polar beardogs were very nice too.

_They poked their soft, slightly wet noses in his palms and he definitely hasn’t cried, because he’s already twelve and Father says it's inappropriate for a man to cry._

  
  


He changes quickly in the clothes Oma has given him. They are different from the silks he used to wear _back_ , but are much more comfortable than the worn tunic he’s stolen from the rope on someone's low balcony. They are soft and nearly fit him. That’s already a huge improvement. 

  
  
  
  
  


Oma picks up some of her packets, gives one to Zuko. 

— These are the saddles for the komodorhinos. We put them on so it’s easier for them to travel and carry our tents. I’m going to show you how to do it, and it’s going to be your duty from now on. That, and feeding them. 

She keeps talking while they come out from the tent. It’s crowded, and doesn’t look like all these people came to see the performance? Do they all live there?

Zuko understands that he is not listening anymore and flushes, guilty. He secretly pinches his wrist, trying to make himself concentrate, because that’s what Father used to do when he wasn’t able to listen to whatever he was saying, but then pulls himself back — he doesn’t do things Father’s way anymore. 

— The main thing you need to remember is that whatever you are doing near them, you need to start slowly. If you just shove the food to komodorhinos, they will bite your fingers off. 

— They have teeth?

Oma snorts. Zuko looks away — it’s not like he’s seen komodorhinos close before! 

— You’ll see yourself. 

  
  
  
  
  


Well, they are _huge._ Three dozens of komodorhinos stand in lines, sticking around with horns and shells, breathing soundly. The air in there is warm.

Zuko is badly aware that he falters. He wants to say something, but he is afraid his voice is going to let him down, so he keeps silent, just staring and gaping. 

Oma near him smirks. 

— Like them? Still want to be there?

Zuko needs a moment to keep himself steady when he opens his mouth. 

— ..yes.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Well, he has a task. He is supposed to saddle up komodorhino? 

Zuko looks at the saddle in his hands. It’s the closest he’s _ever_ been to any animal bigger than a turtleduck, and now he also needs to tie the belts under his belly, and it keeps breathing, and Zuko is terrified out of his mind. 

He really tried listening to Oma explaining how to do this, but when she was doing it looked like the most easy and natural thing in the world, and the beast didn’t even notice that she was doing something to him. And then Zuko wanted to ask her to show it again, but what if she thinks he’s unable to learn it at all after that?

If the beast would just stop staring at him with these little yellow eyes.

  
  
  


He thinks that maybe if he does it fast, the creature wouldn’t notice it too. It’s an old one — before Oma left to pick up the food for other animals from somewhere, she said that this is the most safe one to try, without the horn. She’s from the military, was left because she was too old to keep working but too young to die yet, so now she carries the bundles when they circus’s travels. 

Zuko is trying to keep it in mind — that she is a hornless, harmless creature named Nia, when he is walking around her with a saddle trying to decide from which side he should try doing this.

Oma said he is supposed to start from the front, where the animal can see you and the saddle, because they are trained to stay calm when saddled up, but Zuko is quite suspicious of Nia’s thinking qualities. 

— Good girl, good girl, shhh…

He carefully steps closer, extends the saddle, hoping that the beast sees it and, hopefully, won’t step on him. He can’t mess this up, because he’s nearly sure that is going to be the last straw after attacking… Yun and Rin? What were their names?

Zuko tries to move as slowly as possible, rising on the tiptoes and still quite not reaching, and puts the saddle on Nia's back. She is tense for a moment, grumbles dangerously, but then stills, feeling the familiar weight. Zuko breathes out. 

Just a little more to go.

He kneels to tie the belts underneath, super-aware of Nia’s pacing and breathing getting louder. She is getting impatient. He reaches out to the ties, and then a few things happen at the same moment on impulse. Something snaps very loudly, Zuko suddenly can’t see a thing because his vision is obstructed by large object flying in his face, and he jumps away, on pure reflex. Then someone drags him back, but his reflexes are in fighting mode — jump, run, duck, kick, — so he pushes whoever holding him away and jumps up on his feet, physically feeling his head spin. 

He looks at the person. It turns out to be very mad Oma. 

— Excuse me, do you not have the instinct of self-preservation _at all?_ I especially told you — do not even _get close_ to her hooves!

Zuko tries to duck his head lower in his shoulders. 

Oma sighs. 

— Okay, are you hurt?

Zuko keeps silent, still not trusting himself to stand up. 

— Sorry, I shouldn’t have left you alone to do this. I kind of forgot how overwhelming it can be at first.

  
  


Is she apologising? For his… For his mistake? Does that mean she’s not going to kick him out?

— Why don’t you say something? Did you get so scared you forgot how to speak?

  
  


— No, no, I’m.. sorry, I didn’t mean to forget to not get close to..

— Do not apologise. That was my mistake, but you should have told me if you didn’t understand something. 

Zuko nods. 

  
  
  
  


Oma starts humming something, low, under her breath — the animal seems to start to calm down. Zuko notices that the other komodorhinos around them are alarmed too — they keep stepping over from one leg to another, looking directly at him. These ones clearly have horns. 

Oma rearranges the saddle to its previous positions on the Nia’s back and rubs, gently, the place where her horn has been. 

— She’s a good girl, just a little nervous. Had been kicked out ‘cause she wasn’t able to keep up with military temps, and I couldn’t just leave her. 

Nia looks at Zuko again, piercing, and grumbles. 

Oma brushes over her armour and puts belts down, tying one with trained movement and stretching the other one to him. 

— Don’t get too close for now. 

He hesitantly takes it, then remembers that hesitation hasn’t done him anything good last time, so he tries to pull it swiftly and tie it, but belts just seem to slip, and Oma stands just behind his back, looming over. 

Belt slips again, and the panic starts rising, but Oma catches it at the last moment. 

— Much better now. 

Zuko looks up, astonished. 

— Th..thanks. 

Oma’s face softens, but then she picks up her packets and grumbles:

— Get up, we’re going to be late if we won’t get others saddled up. 

He quickly rises and follows her. 

  
  
  
  
  


* * *

_Direct commandment from High Royal Court,_

_Written by the royal Scribe, attending His Majesty, Agni-bestowed, Fire Lord Ozai, son to the late Fire Lord Azulon, the firm ruler of the Fire Nation and the islands._

_His Majesty, Fire Lord Ozai requires the 41st Division to attend the special procuratory and find his missing heir, His Highness, Prince Zuko and return his body to his place of residence._

_Signed by His Majesty, Fire Lord Ozai, firm ruler of the Fire Nation and islands, may Agni bless his reign._

_•_

_(this document belongs to the Fire Lord private correspondence and not to be archived)_  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m not sure about this one, so tell me what you have to say   
> in the next chapter ty lee is going to make an appearance 
> 
> i’m out of the city now, so all I do is eat, sleep and go skiing? and babysit my baby cousin ofc who’s sleeping now and that’s why i could edit this and post finally (this kid has more energy then all the people in my grade all together)
> 
> take care and stay hydrated, thank u for reading!


	3. noon

Zuko is so nervous he feels like his inside can burst out. He has no real reason to — all he has to do is bring the komodorhinos on the stage, stand for a few minutes while Oma and some other people are performing with them and then bring them back. He doesn’t even need to _lead_ them because they are well-trained to do it by themselves. 

He’s totally overreacting. 

It’s not even _soon_. He still has a few weeks before his first stage appearance while everyone is training. 

  
  


Then why when Zuko even for a blink imagines tons of people and everyone looking at him — well, not at him, but it’s hard to tell — he feels like he’s going to puke?

Maybe he should tell Oma about it, before it happens and he messes up the whole performance, but he doesn’t know how he is supposed to talk about it — I’m afraid of people looking at me? I’m so much of a failure that I can't even stand straight for a few minutes?

But he also knows that she hates when he doesn’t tell her when something worries him because it always ends up in a bigger mess, no matters how much Zuko tries to not let it happen..

— Zuko, where are you again?!

He snaps out of his thoughts, startles and bumps his head into Amai’s shell and hisses, then apologetically pats the animal. He missed the moment when he had to bring the komodorhinos out. Again.

  
  


He quickly leads them out — basically just walks near them, looking at Oma, trying to see if she’s that annoyed like she sounded. She doesn’t, but she seems to don’t like the delay. 

Zuko stands in the perfect posture, waiting for her to start the exercises, but she doesn’t, so he looks up at her. 

They are surrounded by lines of the seats, going up in the air, and Zuko feels like they are looming over him, even though they are empty right now, but it’s too easy to imagine that they are not. 

He hears a snap. Oma lets the reigns fall and looks directly at Zuko. She doesn’t seem to be annoyed — just a mix between concerned and tired. 

— Zuko, we’re redoing it for the fourth time — what actually is wrong?

He wants to cower, but they are alone on the huge stage, and there is nowhere to hide, so he keeps betraying silence. 

— Okay, let’s take a break.

  
  
  
  
  


Oma closes the door of the made-up stables behind the last of the komodorhinos. Zuko is still a little wary around them, but now because he knows what they can do. 

But they don’t because they are babies. 

Amai pokes his head out of the stable to see if Zuko has something for him before he goes, but Zuko’s pockets are tragically empty. 

Oma flops on the hay and pats the spot near her. 

— Sit there, we’re gonna talk it out. 

He carefully sits down, feeling something wet on his neck. He jumps up, but that’s just Nia from the stable just behind him, trying to chew on his clothes. 

Oma keeps looking at him, clearly waiting for an explanation. 

The quicker he snaps it out, the faster it ends finally. 

— I don’t want people looking at me.. At my face. 

She sits quiet for a while. 

— I guess you’re not very legitimate. No one here really is, but I get it. I’ll see what i can do. 

Oma gets up quickly and leaves, and Zuko is left alone, thinking. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The next day, Oma tells him that they are going to the small city they are camped near to and look for a mask for him. He finds this decision bizzare, but maybe something will work out of it?

They shop for a while, and Zuko finds it very annoying and tiring, so he wanders away, quietly, while Oma is arguing to some vendor. 

  
  
  


And then he sees his own face looking at him from the poster. 

It’s a strange feeling — he always felt weirded out by pictures of himself, like a living moment of his life is caught and frozen on the paper. It’s different with moving reflection in the mirror. Maybe it’s the scary stories he was told when he was a child — about Koh, the spirit, stealing the faces. 

Now, Zuko looks at his huge face, on the poster, surrounded by a funeral ribbon. 

He’s dead. 

He stares at his warm, living hands and wonders. Does everyone now think he’s dead?

Does.. does his _Father_ think he's dead? Is he actually mourning Zuko?

  
  
  
  


No, no — that was his goal, from the start, for Zuko to die. Maybe Zuko misunderstood? Maybe he actually wanted Zuko to come back, and now he thinks Zuko is dead?

But why wouldn’t he announce then that his heir is lost? Why did he just send away the mourning posters?

Zuko suddenly finds his hands tremble. Should he announce that he is alive? Should he go back to Father?

Could Azula lie about Father wanting him dead — just to be the first on the line to the throne? She could. 

— The fuck?

Zuko doesn't need to turn around to see who’s that — he already knows the Oma’s voice when she swears, so he just winces and prays _prays prays_ she won’t notice it, but who’s is he kidding — it’s huge and his face is suddenly recognizable there. 

He hears her take sharp intake of breath and then he is being dragged somewhere. 

Zuko keeps his eyes shut and wonders — where is she taking him? But the most part of his brain is occupied by the banging thought — Father doesn't want him. It’s not the animalistic fear that has driven him away from home now that he feels, it’s the drowning, clear realization — it’s true. 

  
  


He is being sat, surprisingly carefully, but doesn’t dare to open his eyes. 

Oma sighs, heavily, and Zuko takes a little peak, from under his lashes, not opening his eyes fully. 

She sits near him, runs her hands through her hair and sighs again. 

— So now you turn out to be the Prince. Had I actually stolen you?

He feels his eyes burn and it hits him in the head again — Father doesn’t even care to send someone to look for him — if he’s not intervening and disturbing him, Father doesn’t give a shit. 

— Not.. not anymore..

Zuko slips in ugly, wailing sobs.

Oma startles near him, and he’s hyper-aware of her sudden movements. But she just fishes the Pup out from somewhere and shoves him in Zuko's lap. The polar beardog starts wiggling his warm body and pokes his wet nose in Zuko’s palm. 

— Stop freaking out and breathe, or you’re going to explode. 

Zuko really tries to stop crying, but he can’t, and he tries to speak, but he can't, and there is so much around him, looming over and choking. 

— My.. my Fa..ther doesn’t.. doesn’t want me..

Oma’s expression becomes grim, and she winces a little, then Zuko feels her cold hand on his shoulder. 

— I know it’s hard to accept, but..

  
  


— You don’t, he wants me dead!

Zuko yells, suddenly mad at everyone — the world, Father, himself. 

Oma squeezes his shoulder. 

— Breathe.

He tries, he really tries. 

— Please, don’t consider leaving. I got so used to having helping hands around and you’ve spoiled Nia so much that she rejects any food that is not fed to her from hands. 

He looks at her, not understanding — doesn’t she get he has nowhere to go? But Oma keeps rubbing his shoulder and looking at him like she looks at the cubs, so he kind of gets that she is implying that she wants him there. 

  
  
  
  


— Well, now that you are legally dead, I think that will be even more useful to you. 

She takes out some bundle out of her bag and Zuko deliberately unwraps it. 

There is a mask — blue, delicately carved out, with white scowling face, looking painfully like it walked out from one of his mother’s stories. 

The whole concept of being on the scene in the centre of attention and no one being able to see his face is mind-blowing. 

— Thanks, — he breathes out. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
Aang looks in the fumes of the Swamp, trying to tell the changing pictures apart. They are unsteady and moving, but contours unite in the one person — Aang can’t see their face, but can see the blue scowl and blazing swords.   
  
  
  
  


He doesn’t think this mask looks like it’s from the story, because dead people don’t tell stories.

— And you’ll find your firebending teacher on the border, but lose a soul.

The person moves on the scene, surrounded by fire and dodging the flames masterfully.

— Your time is up.

* * *

  
  
  


Ty Lee leaves early in the morning, climbing out from the window from the room she shares with two of her sisters, leaving behind a lot of things — regrets, and fears, and family. 

She finds her way through the city — it’s been a long time since she’s been on the streets by herself, but she wanders around, a little bit scared, but also thrilled and cold. Then she catches a ride, some carriage which takes her to the small backwater, where she was told the circus is positioned at this time of the year. It’s overwhelming and kind of scary to travel by herself — not the daughter of a noble man, not one of her sisters — but it's okay. 

There it is — the old, worn out tents and big pavilion, now folded into packs. Ty Lee wonders for a moment — maybe they are asleep, or forgot about the proposition they made to her about joining — long, long ago, because that clearly wasn’t an important thing: an insignificant remark, nothing more. 

But she sees small figures, clearly acrobats, changing positions — Ty Lee can figure out someone who is walking on their hands. She takes a deep breath — this is it, no way back. 

She wants to see the figures closer and what they are doing, but Ty Lee supposes she should talk to the circus master at first, because it would be kind of illogical to just arrive and join the acrobats, hoping that no one would notice her. 

Ty Lee has to find the circus Master, because she is familiar with the circus system, because she used to hang out around it a lot when she was younger and times were easier. 

Sometimes she wants these easier times back, missing them somewhere inside herself — missing not the particular things but the feeling of knowledge: in the end everything will be fine and just right, because the universe has its way for everything. 

Right now Ty Lee feels like she’s walking on the shatters of the past, but the further she gets from the Caldera, the more she wonders — has it ever been fine?

  
  


Maybe that’s why she leaves — because she can’t live anymore thinking that everything could happen. 

The Master looks at her, quizzed, disbelief in the corners of his eyes — and Ty Lee knows how she must look to him, to them. One of many worn out noble girls, whose age is hard to tell and whose heritage is hard to tell, driven away from homes because they were dishonored or rebellious, or both, who have the remains of their grace, and manners, and straight spine dragged behind them, because it’s hard to get rid of something that was driven into you since you were born. 

Maybe she looks like one because that’s who she is. 

But she is accepted in surprisingly quick, even though the proposition was made to her year and a half ago, but Ty Lee supposes, maybe that’s because her skill has became better and she also has grown up and blossomed, and that’s her advantage — her dad always told her that something can come out of her even without being smart, if she uses her pretty face, and maybe because they don’t need to pay her because she has nowhere to go. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  


First night on the road is always scary, girls tell her. They help her get in one of the line of covered carts. Shipment is very haste, and Ty Lee doesn’t ask why, because there must be a reason for that, right? And she’s just going to enjoy her truly first night of her new life. 

There are blankets on the floor and it gets dragged by ostrich-horses, following the series of similar ones. It shakes constantly and Ty Lee feels a little bit sick at first. 

On of the girls yawns loudly, openly and says:

— It will get better when we reach the heath, then you can get some sleep. 

  
  


— What is the heath?

She tries tasting the unknown word, rolling it in the tip of her tongue. It smells like wind. 

Girls laugh at her. 

— You’ll see. 

The lantern at the front of their cart throws uneven light at the road, which lies between low plants, turning into endless dark space. The wind got stronger and now Ty Lee hears strange rumbling sounds in lingering howls of it. 

— It isn’t the sea, is it?

— No, it’s not — just the miles of wild land, where nothing grows except blackthorn and heather. 

— Sounds just like the sea. 

— It’s the wind in the bushes. 

  
  


The next morning, when she wakes up and looks in the small window, they already seem to be far, far away. 

She is told that they are going to stop now, set the camp and start the rehearsals. And their acrobatic master is going to look at Ty Lee individually, to see if she’s capable of joining. She’s a little taken aback, because she already stopped worrying about being accepted in, but she pushes it down — maybe, if the circus Master took her in, it’s going to be just a formality. 

  
  
  


Circus is different, she figures out. There are so many things Ty Lee learns in such a short time, but she’s always been a fast learner and flexible in many ways. 

Girls she shared her cart with wake her up with brushes of their hands, accidental ones, boys lift her up on their shoulders so she can reach the top of their tent when they are putting the camp, every person she meets shakes her hand or pats her shoulder. 

For Ty Lee, whose language is touch, it's a new way of breathing. 

  
  


She never knew it could be that easy. Ty Lee cries as easily as she laughs and rages and hiding her emotions was never easy for her, but the court is an impressive teacher. 

Ty Lee already forgot what it feels like to live somewhere, where emotions are real and raw. 

  
  


She doesn’t remember falling in love, never that. All Ty Lee remembers loving, loving all the way there, since her little chubby hands were put into princess’ and two little buns with white ribbons, and her destiny sealed long before she was born, one of the many. 

  
  
  
  


The first training is exhilarating. She hasn’t felt for a long time what it is like to learn something about acrobatics — in the Fire nation that was her cute little special thing, something like light eyes or curly hair, but here it’s a skill — skill she can and should train, to be at least at the same level with everyone here. 

The master, tall lean woman looks at her with narrow eyes and doesn’t try teaching her how to take all the attention from the audience, because Ty Lee perfectly knows that herself, but how to make it look like she’s balancing between fire and miles of falling from the rope. 

The training is until aching legs and heavy hands, and that’s at least familiar. 

  
  
  


Then Ty Lee is told that she can watch the group training, and she is just in time for a performance. 

There is a crowd of teens and children, huddled around something on the clearing. She knows some of them — Tara and Kiki she shared the cart with, then twins — two girls she’s seen training with Master Loan before her individual lesson, but there are much more, and behind their backs she can’t see what they are looking at. 

Then she sees the flash of fire over their heads. 

Ty Lee is taken aback because memories cover her head over, the world spins a little and she can’t see anything _but_ the flames. 

They are red, hot and burning, but she still sees the other fires, blue, always blowing near her face, but never hurting _for real_ , playing this dangerous game with her she thought she enjoyed and became hooked on. 

She wonders if she ever will be able to find something for herself that does not hurt so much it’s pleasant. She wonders if she can be fixed. 

  
  


The crowd suddenly parts, and Ty Lee is hit with another sensation, hard. The person in the clearing moves so familiar it hurts — she’s just not sure where she’s seen that. 

The person in the clearing has the long, lean body in the dark clothes and a blue mask on his face. But that’s not what seals Ty Lee’s eyes to him. 

It’s the firebending. 

He moves dangerously clean, combining the acrobatic elements with the leashing fire out of the two swords he has in his hands. She sees the performance, dangerous and mesmerising in his trained movements. The audience must adore him. 

  
  


Then the scowling mask turns in her direction, and he stumbles and falls. 

Ty Lee knows she’s pretty, but surely not that pretty?

  
  


Then he jumps up and stumbles away, until his back hits one of the trees and he leans on it, trembling. His aura is dark brown — he’s terrified. 

Ty Lee is not sure why he reacts this way at her, and she’s so confused, but then she _finally gets_ where she’s seen anyone moving like that. 

  
  


The tilt of his head, the posture, the setting of his legs when he firebends — _Azula_ written all over it. 

And Ty Lee knows only one person who resembles Azula _that_ much. 

And he’s dead. 

dead dead dead

  
  


Zuko gets up, tears his mask away and spits the words at her:

_So so familiar gold eyes_

— Where is she?

Ty Lee stumbles, knowing she shakes at his words, shakes like she’s going to drop dead, or cry, or vomit in the moment. 

— I’m alone.

He laughs, not humored at all, bitter. 

— Don’t lie. You all never walk alone. 

She guesses they had. 

— A lot of things changed back there. 

He leaves. 

Ty Lee is left standing in the clearing full of people who’ve clearly enjoyed the whole scene and now waiting for it to be continued. 

She gives them a huge smile through her shaking, waves her hand and leaves too. 

  
  
  


She doesn’t know where she is going, but then someone catches up to her and she is surrounded by the twins — well, they look gorgeous with the glowing skin and matching sets of soft training red clothes, complimenting their dark skin. 

— So you’ve dated Zuko?

Ty Lee is surprised and grossed out a little. 

— No! He’s more like a brother to me. We’d grown up together. 

— That didn’t look like the siblings’ warm reunion. 

Ty Lee suddenly hums, amused — that’s what it would look like. 

— Didn’t know Zuko was from the nobility. 

Well, she caught her here. 

— He’s not. 

Technically he’s not — he’s royalty. 

  
  


Someone joins them, announced, from Ty Lee’s back. 

— Yun, Rin, I’d like to talk to Ty Lee alone. 

She turns to see Zuko. Twins smirk at each other and go away. 

— What are you doing there?

She remembers, they used to be friends — back then, at easier times. Oh, the easier times. He used to be awkward, but so fun to be around — now he got broad shoulders.

Instead of answering, she clings to him and sobs. 

— You were dead!

He freezes, but then, hesitantly holds her. That’s all that Ty Lee needs to go down for a full hysteria. 

— We’re told you’re dead dead dead!

Zuko winces. 

— Well, I’m .. not?

She leans back. 

— But I’ve seen your Phoenix tail, and, and … the .. remains of your body, and...

Ty Lee suddenly gulps down, the picture is real before her eyes. 

But Zuko is not thinking about that, he looks Ty Lee directly in her eyes, at his earnest;

— Ty Lee, how.. how is she?

She knows who he’s talking about, would know in her death. 

— The last years have been… rough for Azula. 

He frowns, bitter, spiteful — not at Ty Lee that time. 

— Of course. 

He looks at the ground for a while, then snaps it out. 

— Do you have a tent to sleep?

  
  


She’s been invited to three tents already — two of them were girls from her cart and the twins, and one fumbling, red boy inviting her over. 

— No. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


When he leads Ty Lee into the large tent, he is momentarily swayed by the loud small creature, jumping on him and starting to lick his face. Ty Lee hides a giggle, and Zuko flushes furiously. 

— You can leave your bedroll here. 

She drops it and her bag, tentatively looking around. There is a big hearth in the middle of it, surrounded by the pillows, then two bedrolls in the back with a huge polar bear-dog laying across them, snoring loudly. 

And there is a young woman, sitting in the back, in her mid twenties, busy patching up something looking like a saddle. She has brown hair, fragile shoulders, but other ways, a strong body. 

She looks up to Ty Lee and then turns her gaze to Zuko, questionably. 

— So I see you’ve figured it out. 

He nods.

— One more run-away noble child? What are they doing to you in the Fire Nation if you all run like rats? 

She gets up, drops the saddle and takes the pup from Zuko. 

— How was your training?

He huffs and gets in the back of the tent. 

— I’m Oma. 

She spreads out her hand to Ty Lee and she shakes it, and it’s surprisingly warm. 

— Living there — washing the komodorhinos for me. 

  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


One time, when they perform in the small city, Tara and Kiki are a little more nervous than usual, and point at the little girl, sitting in the middle. This is the daughter of the governor, they whisper to Ty Lee. There are two girls sitting beside her: she whispers one of them something in the ear, and then tugs her hair, when she doesn’t react, annoyed. 

Kiki wonders aloud how it feels like — to be the governor daughter — that’s nearly like a princess, can you imagine? And, remember — the princess too had two confidantes, but Ty Lee doesn’t listen. She thinks that somewhere far away, in some other backwater, there is another governor daughter, lost and alone. And somewhere in her memories, there is a princess, with two loyal girls, lost in the series of days too. 

Destiny is a funny thing. 

  
  
  
  


Governor’s daughter visits Ty Lee after the performance, alone, and proposes she comes with her to live and perform especially for her. She says that Ty Lee will live in her house and feel like a real noble. This is no opportunity to waste.

  
  
  


Ty Lee bows low, and says this opportunity is too great for her. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Sometimes they just travel for days, somewhere ahead, through the forests, stopping 

for the nights and the meals. 

There are early rises, and the air is crispy and cold in the mornings, she realizes. Then, with each night, it starts to get a little colder and the sky is a little clearer. Ty Lee is a little bit confused, because the winter is not soon yet and she asks one of the girls who plays with the moose lions on the stage, completely unafraid of them, about it, and she laughs and says — we’re coming closer to mountains. 

Ty Lee knows what mountains are in concept, and she’s seen pictures, and she feels them especially real when she’s sick and has a fever, on the tips of her fingers — but it’s still a little bit weird for her, the girl says it with such an awe in her voice. 

She finds out. 

Circus procession, with their animals — some are walking, some are in carts, bundles, packings and people, reaches the path, leading out of endless forests and then it’s open place only. 

Mountains are laid out before her — Ty Lee forgets how to breathe and maybe starts crying, and then laughs, because she feels like the first and last person to exist at the same time, fear and the exhilarating, heady feeling of freedom, following her now wherever she goes. 

_Our home is wherever we go, our walls trees are, our floors earth are, and our gods skies are._

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Ty Lee’s mother always was the most beautiful woman she ever met. The first memory of her is her many-layered dresses, flowing, weightless around her. She loved being the centre of everyone’s attention even more than she loved noble parties. Ty Lee remembers her flying in the nursery for a moment, all like a puff, with the special tilt of her head and huge eyes. 

Ty Lee still sees her perfect, graceful hands in her dreams. 

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


They walk to the narrow, fast, seething mountain river. Here, the hills stood in the circle, outstretched their hands, and now there is a clearing on their folded palms. It’s windy here and the air seems to be different, and Ty Lee breathes it in in big gulps, getting drunk on it. 

They set for the night and Ty Lee heads out to wonder a little bit, forward on the riverbank. There is even snow here — she’s never seen snow in her life. She picks up a bunch of it and it bites her palm, melting away. 

She sees an old woman, who one day was the greatest dancer of the circus, pretty as a picture, they say, but now the fortune teller. She looks up to Ty Lee, smiles and her dark brown skin crinkles. In her hands, there is an old rotten branch, covered in ice and not falling apart because of that. 

She smiles again and breaks it. There are worms inside. 

— Ashes will to ashes return. 

  
  


Ty Lee is not afraid at all, but also even closer to crying, just because feelings overfill 

her. 

* * *

  
  
  
  


At night a huge campfire is lit, and everyone settles around it. Someone puts some herbs into it, and now smoke is different — a little bit sweet, and maybe bitter, flowing differently than usual. 

Sun sets and she can’t breathe. 

Stars are right there, Ty Lee can stretch a hand and touch them, and for a moment she feels like she is being hanged over the sky, and she’s drowning and stars are rushing towards her, speeding up with each moment. 

_our gods skies are_

That’s what circus will be forever for her — nights around the campfire, hair smelling of smoke and burnt herbs, stars she can touch, and people, people she meets wherever she goes. 

Tara, who has a low voice, with a little rasp, was basically raised by moose lions and brushes her hair. Little Kiki, who maybe doesn’t even remember her real full name herself — maybe she was born in the circus, light-legged and quiet, sometimes shy and who changes completely when she’s out on the scene. 

And Zuko — this Zuko is different from the scared boy he was in his last years in the palace: there is the traces from who he was when Times Were Easier, but he also much softer and secure in who he is, and this security remind Ty Lee of Azula so much she’s ready to cry. 

  
  
  


Girls sing some old songs with easy catching motive and long, plangent vowels. Ty Lee sings with them, and then she’s crying again because she can’t remember something she did to earn this, this feeling inside her, the one she floats in. 

  
  
  


Nothing is real — Fire Nation, long-haired princess, girl with knives and slender hands, her family — nothing but this fire, and these skies, bitter smell of some herbs she can’t name and these people. How can something even possibly be real when Ty Lee lies there and feels like a part of something huge, powerful, many-legged and warm?

Zuko leans in to her ear and whispers:

— Different from the Fire Nation’ stars, aren’t they?

She nods quietly, but her mind is full with something different — with the realisation again — no matter how far she goes, she can’t leave her background behind, and Ty Lee wonders: will life ever be easy?

Because now she is still unable to tell what is right and what is wrong, still unable to tell the line between real and not, still wonders: how long will this last?

But she smiles and breathes the smoke of the campfire in. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


_To the High Royal Court,_

_To His Majesty, Agni-bestowed, Fire Lord Ozai, son to the late Fire Lord Azulon, the firm ruler of the Fire Nation and the islands._

_Loyal servants to the Fire Lord, may Agni bless his reign, the 41st division, assigned to the Far Islands and assigned to attend the special procuratory from their ruler, may Agni bless his reign, and to whom pledge their full allegiance, are notifying that they have completed the procuratory and appended the required cases._

  
  


_Loyal servants to His Majesty, Agni-bestowed, Fire Lord Ozai, son to the late Fire Lord Azulon, the firm ruler of the Fire Nation and the islands and Agni, the 41st division._

  
  


_Sealed and verified by the Royal scribe._

•  
  
  


_(this document belongs to the Fire Lord private correspondence and not to be archived)_

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so the time setting might feel off a little, but I hope you’ve understood that there is kinda big gap between the mask scene and Ty Lee’s arrival. promise it would get clearer soon!
> 
> the thing is, tomorrow I’m going back to school — like, actually to school not the online and feels so fuckin surreal to set my alarm and get my bag ready so I’m kind of stressed
> 
> please consider leaving comment if you have something to say and take care!!!
> 
> also! i made tumblr but I’m fuckin horrible in social media concept (i forget about them), so I nearly sure I’m not going to post anything, but!! if you want to talk shit, or just talk, or you have something to say about my works — you’re more than welcome i swear
> 
> https://seperent.tumblr.com/


	4. afternoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: addictions, hallucinations and unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of death & dead bodies
> 
> all the 41st characters belong to muffinlance!

  
  


When he goes back to their tent, he freezes. The acrobats are training again, and Zuko can’t tear his eyes away. 

He can recognise Yun and Rin from there — it’s hard not to. They are performing their special set, moving smoothly around each other, like two halves. It reminds him of the duo swords he had back in the palace. It was just impossible to use one separately from another. His hands itch from the memory of the swords. Zuko misses his training. 

The moves look familiar. Zuko supposes he’s seen them when he used to watch Ty Lee perform backflips and somersaults in the gardens, but it feels different — like he knows them on some physical, deep level. 

He snaps out of the thoughts and keeps going. He needs to be working, or Oma’s going to be mad. 

Or not, because she’s acting all weird lately — always pushing Zuko out of the tent when the acrobats are training, sending him there with some tasks, or clearing the schedule for him on the days there are joined trainings — like she wants him to be there and watch. Could she? For what?

But Zuko really, really, does enjoy it. 

That’s the thing — he can’t understand how adults work. That’s why all of his attempts with Father always failed — and that’s why Azula was much more successful than him. She was able to read the room. He — wasn’t. 

His betraying mind keeps slipping to the phrase girls threw at him that day — about joining the lesson. He’s nearly sure he’s going to fail, but just thinking about the possibility is fascinating. 

Zuko used to watch Ty Lee showing off to Azula from the back, wondering what it takes to move like that and bent like that. Ty Lee used to move like she didn’t have bones at all in her body, and it was at the same time scary and mesmerising. 

  
  
  


He tries to stay in form — repeating his katas every morning, quietly — but this is different. He doesn’t have tutors to supervise him and how is he supposed to know if he’s slipping? This is annoying. But Zuko does, even if he’s not sure if he’s going to need it ever again. That thought stings, but he forces it away — there are loads of people in this world wanting him dead. But that’s different — he knows it. 

  
  
  


He leaves the hay behind before the tent and goes to the clearing behind it. He feels very awkward doing this, but he’s whole body itches to try. He remembers doing the similar exercise with Piandao, with his dao swords — spirits, how he misses these swords.

Zuko tries to make a lunge like he used to do when he was still trained with tutors, and then make some semblance of the flips he saw the acrobats do. 

He slips, and falls gracelessly, winces, feeling his cheeks burn. 

Useless idea. 

  
  


— Not that bad. 

He startles and jumps up, afraid to even imagine who witnessed his shame, but when sees who, he’s not even surprised — Oma is the only one who walks there, and now she stands there, her eyes a little amused, but lips pursed tight. 

Zuko rises, not looking at her, wanting one thing — just walk away, away, forget that it ever happened.. what?

  
  


— What do you mean?

She looks even more amused and hums. 

— I’m not an expert, but your legs are set right. You lack training, and a training hand. 

The thought is exhilarating — can this really be possible? Can he.. just start learning acrobatics? 

He clutches to the last excuse he has:

— But how are you going to manage here without me?

Oma rolls her eyes, and Zuko winces, but then reminds himself it’s not out malice — well, at least partly. 

— Well, I think I can handle a few hours each day here without you — even though you’re that irreplaceable. 

Now it’s his turn to roll eyes. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


It’s quite unusual for Zuko to see Ty Lee out of her state of habitance — he is used to her being chirpy, confident and attracting everybody’s attention. That’s what used to annoy the shit out of Azula when they were kids — no matter how perfect his sister firebending was, no one could overshadow Ty Lee’s social skills and smile, so for Azula only easy way out of that was pushing the girl in the pond and tugging her braid with hot fist. 

But now, in the early morning — the ones that happen close to the mountains: crispy, purple-blueish, with the remains of night fog smouldering on the grass. He tastes the air and comes to a conclusion — they can actually go fishing there, it’s that season again, even if Oma still insists to go when they get closer to  _ real  _ rivers, though Zuko doesn’t like them that much. 

Well, back to the point. 

Now, in the early morning, Ty Lee trembles a little — maybe from the cold, maybe from the nerves, so he awkwardly rubs her elbow. She snaps out of whatever she’s been thinking and gives him a grateful smile. 

They come to the common clearing with a firepit where whoever is cooking today made something — something? What’s even that?

  
  
  


People start to gather around them, and he has to keep in mind to bring some food back to Oma, because Nia is sick, and she has to stay there. 

Ty Lee looks even more awkward, like she’s not sure where to put herself, and it’s even more unusual — but he’s very familiar with that feeling, so he clumsily rubs her elbow. 

She flashes him a wide, grateful smile, and Zuko just hopes that he changed something. 

  
  


Girls arrive — loud, clinking with earrings and bracelets, adding the buzz to the sound around the campfire, and Ty Lee’s expression becomes even more lost. Zuko dreary thinks that, maybe, she really did want to join the girls' tent, and now she’s regretting the opportunity she lost. 

— Do.. do they really eat in the morning? Like, girls too? All together?

Oh. 

Now he gets the reason for her unease — that used to daze him too, but that must be different for her. 

Noble ladies don’t  _ eat  _ — they pick and nibble and chew, and the Royal Academy raises ladies, so that’s why Azula used to eat extra at home, before Father noticed, that’s why he used to steal pieces and bites to bring Mai, who was hungrily watching him tear bread to the turtleducks. 

That was before he fell in disgrace and Mai’s parents forbid her from speaking one word to him. 

He never wondered how Ty Lee handled that, because she was always closer to Azula, but now he sees panic in her eyes when she watches everyone gathering in a circle to eat. 

— Do you want.. maybe grab some food and eat with Oma in the stables?

  
  
  


He sees relief wash over her feature, and thinks that he finally, fucking finally, said something right. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

Azula is the only kid. It’s more agreeable than anything — if you’re the only kid there is no need to even consider the option of being overtaken in anything, of being challenged in the race for the throne which the royalty calls life and Azula calls privilege. 

If you are the only child, you don’t need to be afraid of one of the main family things — living close to each other it’s easier to strike, easier to tear down — just a few droplets in the teacup, a knife in the sleeve, quiet nights and stifling mornings. 

Azula considers herself lucky — especially as she became the only child, so she can truly appreciate the possibility and blessing. 

Only children do not need to compete with their siblings, only children do not need to sweat with blood for their parents to notice them.

  
  


Azula wasn’t always an only child.

  
  
  
  


There are no limits to her until she is perfect — what’s the point in existing as a flawed shell of a person? You need to earn the right to live. Everything Azula has she earns, earns with the trainings when the armour digs into her skin, leaving the blood traces, earns with the nights when the moment she closes her eyes her head starts to swell and the behinds of her eyelids burn. Some deserve to live, some not. 

Azula is the only child and she is not going to follow the lead of the one who was the reason she wasn’t the only child before. 

Father leaves reminders to her, even if she doesn’t need them anymore — Azula has memorised them by rote. 

  
  


There are reminders in Father’s gaze, piercing, following her everywhere, there are reminders in his hands — she remembers what they feel like, even though it was long ago — she is perfect now, stuff like that doesn't happen to the perfect. 

There is a reminder in her late brother’s Phoenix tale. It haunts Azula in her dreams, but it’s even closer in reality. It’s pinned to the doors of the training hall. 

When Azula used to ask too many questions — right after she had the chance to become an only child, when Father caught Ty Lee’s fingers on hers — pretty, soft, perfect fingers, the Phoenix tail used to appear near the headboard of her bed every morning. She knows servants were leaving it there, because it’s Father's way to remind, Father’s way to warn — you’re slipping to the weakness your brother was.

She burned it, tore it to pieces, threw away — but still. It reappeared again and again, every morning. 

Reminder. 

(When the body(remains of it) arrived, Mai had the audacity to show an emotion — that’s it, she found out. That’s what she needed to act at least somehow. How ironic Azula doesn’t need it anymore. How ironic that it had happened when she didn’t need ways to make them loyal to her anymore, because she doesn’t need  _ loyalty  _ — she needs fear.)

  
  
  


When Azula can’t sleep she feels like something crawls into her mind. Pulling over her thoughts and making her head into the one crawling, boiling mess. That’s when mother comes out to play. 

Sometimes she just looms over Azula and  _ looks _ at her with strange eyes, piercing and cutting Azula to pieces, like trying to understand where Azula needs to be fixed. 

Sometimes, she looks at her with a disgusting pitying expression — like she used to look at the pathetic excuse Azula once had for a brother. At these moments, she wants to scratch her eyes out, and she can’t  _ can’t look _ at the familiar face — one Azula sees each morning in the mirror. 

She leans over even lower to her face and whispers something Azula can’t tell apart —  _ monster daughter daughter monster what’s wrong fix does not work _

Azula wants it to stop  _ stop stop _ — so she opens her mouth in silent yell and pushes, tugs, tears something down, thrashing and tossing in her bed like wild. When she looks at her hands, there is something dark and sticky under her nails. 

  
  
  
  


Next morning, Azula wakes up to a physician in her who has clear orders from the firelord — fix her and make her work. 

But it turns out there is nothing physically wrong with Azula — there are just a few strands of her hair missing and instead of her left eyebrow there is a scratched bloody mess. 

Physician says there is nothing to fix in her — at least medically, and she throws a heavy gold chandelier at him. Of course there is not  _ anything  _ to fix in her — she’s perfection, that’s the reason she’s alive. What’s the matter with a few lost hair?

  
  
  


She trains herself into the obliviation, until there is loud noise in her ears and her eyes darken, and then twice more. She falls on the ground, laying on the cold floor, and looking up at the skies. Is there any point in keeping going? Is there any point for her to open her eyes?

Azula scolds herself for that thought, gets up, through her legs begging her to stop — she doesn’t, because if it hurts, then she is progressing. When she gets up, she pointedly  _ doesn’t  _ look at the hair of the late prince hunt on the doors. 

  
  
  


Later that night, after hours of training more, and then writing her essays on war tactics, she lays in the dark again. Her whole body feels like it’s on fire, and her eyes burn, Azula contently thinks that  _ now  _ she’s going to fall asleep, but the moment she closes her eyes, her thoughts start to swirl again — even though her body is at its latest stage of exhaustion, she can’t doze off. 

In the silk nightclothes and on the silk linens she craves any friction, but it doesn’t come — it’s like she’s laying in the naught. 

She opens her eyes annoyed and tries to get up, but her body  _ doesn’t listen _ . Azula tries to move, lift her hand, sit up, but her body feels like a frozen piece of stuffed pillows and she totally lost her control on it — her limbs, usually her weapon, her powerful extension she uses to bend fire — don’t listen to her. It’s terrifying — being unable to move, just blinking in the dark. 

And then something is on her chest. 

There is a dark figure, sitting on her, pushing its hand on her face and forcing her not to breathe, it’s weight heavy — she can’t breath, choking on her own spit, her lungs boiling, but she can’t push it away — her limbs just  _ do not obey _ . 

Darkness around her spins, and she can make out the figure — mother is choking her with a pillow, Azula laughs through it — it’s over, and how ironic it is — mother gave life to her, and mother took it. 

And then she is gone. 

  
  
  


Azula sits up, her brain boiling from sudden excess of oxygen, and falls again, hot, immediately dry tears slipping on her face. 

She learnt to cry silently. 

  
  
  


Next morning, she threatens the physical into giving her a mixture which will immediately put Azula to sleep. 

She takes it, and then she’s out, like a light. It feels so good to be able to get into the dark, filled with nothing. Fall into deep, heavy slumber — dreamless and thoughtless. 

She gets to be taking it every night, and even though the old fool she has for a physician says it’s dangerous to quickly become hung on it, Azula doesn’t listen — she’s strong-willed and she can stop any moment. 

Azula knows the rumors — being spread like wildfire by servants — about the Crown Princess slowly going crazy in the empty palace, so she makes it a show — banishing every servant who said something, and parades through the city — picture of health, of perfection, sitting in her palanquin with open curtains and slowly blinking. 

She comes just in time for another medicine time — to black out in the night, to get lost in the pleasant nothing. 

  
  
  


When Father calls for her to find and bring him the Avatar, she answers the call — the perfect only child. 

  
  
  


* * *

Kuzon is a lot of things — fourteen, dead, parentless, soldier of the 41st Division — but most importantly, he has — he had — hair the same colour as the late heir to the throne. 

His last service to their Prince, Teruko thinks as she gathers his burnt body, brushing away an unwanted tear. 

But only the first of the many for Teruko. 

* * *

  
  
  
  


Aang craves a lot of things — the pies Gyatso used to bake with him — special pies that literally have the hint of the Temple’s air in it, craves the sky-bison morning cuddles — baby bisons need to be held all the time, so they grow attached to people, the feeling that everything is easy and right in the world — because in the end, universe is always going to get it the right way, so there is no need to worry. 

But most of all, he craves having an actual purpose he  _ can  _ follow — like, to learn to be an Air Nomad, or to go to the morning training, or meditate in the sun and get charged for the day. 

Not  _ learning the four elements and saving the world.  _

He craves the feeling of being able to breathe for a moment, not needing to move anywhere — but it’s impossible for them on the constant run from the crazy fire princess. 

Toph always says he needs to chill, because with overreacting he’s not going to reach it. But Aang can’t just live without reaching the goal, because sometimes he feels like his destiny is the only thing that keeps him linked to the nomads. 

Katara gets him — she gets the blame he feels for surviving, for not immediately following his purpose, for letting the world down — and Katara gives the best hugs, making him feel safe, but he knows Katara is worried too, the most worried of them — about everything, about not being able to find the firebending teacher for him, and he feels so much guilt for pouring it at her every time, and then immediately feeling better after that, and being able to fall asleep — he sees Katara’s grim silhouette near the fire for a long time in the night after that, but he can’t do anything with himself, no matter how much he hates himself for it. 

  
  


So that’s why when he sees the blue mask from his vision on the poster, he gets very excited — and how actually funny is it? His future teacher works in the circus! He’s never been to a circus, and the world suddenly lightens up, but he doesn't understand why his friends’ faces are still grim. 

— Aang, are you sure.. this is safe?

He stares at Katara, not understanding. 

— Katara, this is my chance! What’s wrong?

Sokka shakes his head. 

— I agree with Katara in this — this actually can be unsafe. 

He’s suddenly saved by Toph:

— Stop it, losers — I’m sure all of us need that time to relax. 

  
  


Katara is still doubting it, but they quickly reassure her. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


This Blue Spirit is  _ fascinating!  _ He’s one of the most powerful firebenders Aang has ever seen — well, it’s not like he’s seen many, but still!

He urges his friends to find him after the performance and speak to him, ask him to join them. Aang is in his good mood again, and everything feels better. He’s nearly sure everything is going to be fine and the Blue Spirit will agree to teach him. 

  
  
  
  
  


It does not work out well. 

When they accidentally break into his tent, he is already without his mask, and some girl is removing her make-up near him, looking in the small mirror in her hands. 

He looks Fire Nation, with the special gold eyes, and Katara near him is already tense, but Aang doesn’t understand her worries — the spirits themselves said that he’s the teacher Aang needs, so what can possibly go wrong?

A lot of things. 

When Aang happily announces that the Blue Spirit can join them on the journey of saving the world from the firelord, the boy suddenly pales even more and wildly clutches the edge of the small set up table. Then he gives a full body shake and shuts his eyes. 

— Leave, — he rasps lowly, his voice rough and unsteady. 

Aang recoils back on pure instinct, because there is something in this boy’s voice that makes him uneasy — desperation and full readiness to fight. Does he think they are going to  _ make  _ him go with them?

The girl sitting near him jumps up and gives them a full-faced smile, pushing the end of her braid back. 

— Hello there, how can I help you? Are you lost?

Katara frowns and says:

— I think we’ve already told you what we are here for? — then she turns to the boy and makes her best judging face, — you don’t understand, this is the Avatar, how can you just turn the world away?

But the bubbly girl persistently pushes them away from the tent, never stopping smiling. 

— Let’s go, I’ll show where the main entrance is — I totally get you, this whole circus set-up is hard to find your way in. — then she quickly turns her face to the trembling boy, — I’ll be back. 

Aang is so confused his head hurts a little, but once the girl sweetly, but strongly pushed them out, Katara frowns again and says:

— I don’t like what’s going on there — we might need to return once more. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


It’s different with Ty Lee there — she’s so familiar at the same time and so, so  _ different.  _ She is crippled on the edges, twitchy where she was chirpy, smiling wide, distracting, where she would have cried, not able to hold face, but Zuko supposes it's the same with him. People change, she says. He nods, agreeing. 

They rarely talk about the past — not here, where they can be heard. It doesn’t really matter, because Zuko is nearly sure that half of the camp  _ knows  _ that he is from royalty, but he doesn’t want to risk anything, especially when life has started to lighten up. 

He painfully craves asking about Mai, about the place, about  _ his sister _ , but he is as painfully afraid of knowing anything about, because from Ty Lee’s not speaking he already guessed that Azula is  _ not good.  _

But still. 

Ty Lee somehow fits perfectly in the set-up he and Oma have — fits in the circus like she is the lost piece, fit even better that Zuko does himself. She accompanies him to the trainings, learns to push away the Pup when he swarms on her head at night, because that’s the warmest of all the places, coddles the polarbear dogs even harder than Zuko does, leaving Oma to roll her eyes. 

They slip in the easy routine — eating all alone, behind the stables, where Ty Lee doesn’t look at his plate before she starts eating, where she doesn’t wait for Zuko to start eating first. 

She puts weird crystals everywhere in their tent, whispers something to the  _ rocks  _ in the mornings — she explains it’s to him as charging them with positive energy for a day and binds two of them to Zuko’s swords and one on his neck — for protection, she says. 

Zuko doesn’t resist, ‘cause even Oma doesn’t — she just huffs, and accepts one too. 

  
  


But where Ty Lee goes, Mai and Azula go, no matter what she said — and he is so fucking afraid of that, because he is scared of Azula and of what happened to Azula during these long years. 

But time flees, and nothing happens. 

  
  


When they are laying at the first night in the mountains, around the campfire, and it smells like something heady and gingery, Ty Lee laughs breathlessly and whispers to him:

— Do you feel it? We’re going to live forever, till the end of times!

Oh, he indeed feels it. 

  
  
  
  


* * *

and then the thunder strucks

* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  


Ty Lee recognises her immediately — even when she is upside down, because how could she ever  _ not  _ recognise those eyes? How could she ever not recognise aura this strong?

how could she not recognise the feeling of anticipation, dread, worry and blessedness at the same time?

— Azula!

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please consider leaving a comment if you have smth to say!
> 
> also the line break is actually a timeskip
> 
> tumbler: seperent


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